


Soul Deep

by BarPurple



Series: Halloween House of Horror 2018 [15]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Body Horror, Curses, F/M, shady fairies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 05:22:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16549718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple





	Soul Deep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maplesyrup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maplesyrup/gifts).



“It’s forever, dearie.”

Belle glanced at her father. Some of the tension that had been present in his posture since the arrival of the Dark One had eased. His eyes darted briefly towards Gaston and he gave her a stern glare. She knew exactly what he wanted, but in this moment the choice was hers. She would never get a chance like this again.

She turned her eyes back to the Dark One who was waiting for her answer with his head cocked to one side. There was no doubt in her mind that he was confident of her answer, but she had to say the words to seal the deal.

“Then I will go with you forever.”

The Dark One clapped his hands and giggled; “Congratulations on winning your little war.”

Gaston began blustering and posturing, but Belle noticed he didn’t physically try to prevent the Dark One leading her out of the room. Belle bit back a small smile. This wasn’t how she’d imagined it, but she was escaping.

 

Belle had given a little thought to what would happen once they reached the Dark Castle. They had wandered through the corridors and rooms and the Dark One idly pointing out a few of his treasures. He was showing off, but it was clear that he had every right to, the Golden Fleece was no mere trinket. He answered some of her questions, others he brushed off, but he never once told her off for her curiosity. It was a heady feeling for Belle, to be listened too. ‘A lady should be seen and not heard’ had been drummed into her since birth.

The dungeon had come as a surprise and she kicked herself for not realizing that was where they were heading. She should have known that the Dark One wouldn’t want to display her like on of his treasures, she was here to work not to look pretty. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that, all her life people had admired her for her beauty. She snorted to herself as she tried to find a comfortable position on the narrow cot. Her looks might not have garnered such admiration if people knew of the price that came with them.

Belle frowned at the course of her own thoughts. Since her mother’s death there had been a hole, no more like a cloud in her mind. There was something important trapped within the swirling mist. Something to do with her beauty, and the price of love. Bits and pieces would slip through occasionally, but Belle could never make sense of the strange snippets of information. Whatever it was it was connected to her greatest shame; her Mother’s dead and she did her best not to dwell on that terrible day to often for fear of slipping back into the debilitating despair that had engulfed her in the weeks after.

She took a look at the stark walls of her dungeon, hopefully the Dark One would have something for her to do else she would have nothing by time to think.

 

-0-

 

“…and skin the children I hunt for their pelts.”

Belle gasped and the cup she was about to give him fell from her hands.

“That one was just a quip. Not serious, dearie.”

She nodded, relived that she wouldn’t have to do something so disturbing. When she knelt to pick up the cup she had another moment of panic.

“It’s chipped. You can hardly see it.”

Rumplestiltskin frowned and dismissively twirled a hand; “It’s just a cup.”

When she returned the tea tray to the kitchen Belle noticed that she’d lost three fingernails. There was no pain, but the nails looked as if they had been torn off. Had she caught them on something? She must had done, but no matter how she searched around the kitchen she could find no place that she could have injured herself. She tapped the bare finger ends against the wood of the table. The impact didn’t hurt at all.

Belle shuddered the relentlessly logical part of her mind was telling her that she knew exactly what was happening. She stomped hard on those thoughts. Whatever it was, it was tied up in the misty memory hole in her mind. She would not think about it.

She simply must have snagged the nails at some point. Lack of decent food had made the nails weak and they had torn away painlessly. Yes, that must be it, a perfectly sensible explanation.

 

-0-

 

“What are you doing?”

“Opening these! It's almost spring, we should let some light in.” She gave the heavy curtains another hard tug, “What did you do, nail them down?”

Rumple shrugged; “Yes.”

Belle huffed, had he never heard of curtain rails, did he honestly think that the strip of loops along the top hem were just a strange decoration. She rolled her eyes fondly and gasped as her left arm withered before her eyes. From the tips of her fingers to her shoulder her skin shrivelled as the flesh dissolved beneath. The shock loosened her grip on the ladder and she tumbled backwards with a strangled cry.

“Umph!”

She blinked at Rumple. He had caught her. How he glittered in the sunlight now streaming through the window. He looked stunned, as if he’d not seen the light in such a very long time.

“Um, erm thank you.”

He looked down at her and gulped before rapidly set her on her feet. Belle was certain he was going to say something about her arm. Instead Rumple just swung his arms like a nervous school boy before he nodded curtly and headed back towards his wheel. Belle looked down at her arm, he couldn’t have missed the change, especially with all the extra light in the room.

“I'll, uh, put the curtains back up.”

Rumple looked up at the window and gave her a brief smile; “No need. I’ll get used to it.”

Belle was puzzled. She spent a few moments rubbing her arm while Rumple began to spin. There was no denying it, her left arm was nothing more than skin and bone. She gave her head a shake and bent to gather up the dusty curtain, maybe it didn’t look as bad as she thought it did. She hefted the fabric ball into her arms with a happy hum, the strength of the limb wasn’t affected, so did it really matter what it looked like?

That niggling voice deep in her mind tried to draw her attention to why she was changing, but as long as she kept busy it was easy to ignore.

It was easy to remain in her state of denial, even as the withered flesh began to spread from her shoulder to the left side of her face. With Rumple’s habit of keeping the mirrors covered she hardly every caught sight of her reflection. The silver tea tray was polished to a fine shine, but she’d quickly mastered loading it with pot, jug and cups without looking down.

Rumple never commented on the changes she was undergoing. Not once did she catch him staring at the bony digits and their brittle corpse-white skin. His gaze never seemed to linger on the rotting side of her face either. Maybe he simply didn’t care for the beauty of women? Perhaps he felt that her horrific appearance was in keeping with the fearsome persona he so carefully cultivated in the outside world.

Whatever the reason, his indifference to her appearance gave her a freedom she’d never had before. She could slouch, sit on the table, or snort with laughter all without worrying how it must look to the man in the room. She amazed herself at how bold she truly was, nobody back in Avonlea would have believed that their pretty, perfect princess would chastise the Dark One, or trade off-colour quips with him.

 

-0-

 

One morning a strange blonde woman marched into the castle dragging a pirate behind her. The pirate had recoiled from Belle and muttered something about how she must have had some work done in storybook which made no sense at all. Rumple had snarled and shooed her away telling her to go and read or dust or whatever. As she left she overheard something the woman said. Well, she’d overheard Rumple’s reaction to whatever the woman had said, - “You’re trying to tell me I fall for the help?” A shudder ran through her and shapes began to form in the mist of her mind, until she heard Rumple tell his guests not to be ridiculous. He never mentioned the blonde and her pirate again and Belle was more than happy to follow his lead.

 

-0-

 

The only time she could not avoid her appearance was when other people were in the castle. Even in the depth of pain that Rumple had inflicted upon him the thief found strength enough to comment. He was quite kind about it.

“What has that monster done to you? Come with me, lady, we can find a healer for you.”

“I have to stay, if I leave my people will be in danger.”

It was a vague enough statement, but the truth. No one broke a deal with the Dark One, although as she helped the thief stagger from the castle she wondered what he thought were the particulars of her deal with Rumple. Goodness only knew what rumours would start flying around, she’d worry about that should any of them come to Rumple’s ears.

She’d not expected for Rumple to drag her into the woods to find the thief. The deep hood of her cloak only concealed most of her ravaged face if she kept her head turned, but on meeting Nottingham she quickly decided that taking her eyes off him would be unwise. The Sheriff obviously saw enough that he liked to try and buy ten minutes of her time from Rumple.

“Bag over her head and she’ll do, y’know?”

She’d been tempted push back her cloak and show her arm just to watch the boorish fool swallow his tongue at the sight of the rest of her. Rumple beat her to that punch by magicking the organ from his mouth.

When Rumple missed the thief, with a bow that never missed no less, Belle wasn’t sure if she was hugging him in thanks for that kindness, or for not whoring her to Nottingham. It was both she supposed. She was sure he was blushing when she looked back to ask him if he was coming home.

That night as she brushed her hair she found huge hanks were tangling around the bristles. Exploring her head with her hand she discovered that the rot had spread across her scalp. With no cushion of hair, she could feel each and every bump of her skull. Her left ear was a shrunken flap, that felt strangely crinkly. She finished brushing what was left of her hair with a sigh. She’d have to get creative with her braiding tomorrow.

As she climbed into bed she wondered why she wasn’t more disturbed by the alterations happening to her. The ladies of her father’s court had constantly mourned their fading beauty, often long before the fading had begun. Belle had envied them. Theirs was to be a gentle decline into aging, and no matter what the shallow and vain men of the court thought the older ladies were beautiful. Father had said that Belle was lucky, her beauty would last a life time.

Belle grinned into the dark. Father had been wrong about that. In the quiet of the night it was harder to ignore that desperate voice that wanted her to think about what was happening. She stubbornly refused to acknowledge the half answers the voice was presenting. It was foolish and impossible, of that she was sure. Belle might enjoy reading stories, but she damn well knew that life was never so simple. She bit her lip as she considered and grinned again when a better answer rose to the surface of her mind. Rumple had mentioned that fairy magic didn’t mix well with his own, so it must be her proximity to him that was eroding the Blue Fairy’s spell.

Happy with her thinking she rolled over and snuggled down to sleep. After less than a minute she flipped onto her right side. There was no way she’d been able to sleep with the crinkly sounds her left ear was making against the pillow. Before she drifted off into sleep she wondered why she thought that the Blue Fairy had anything to do with her condition but come the morning she didn’t recall thinking about Reul Ghorm at all.

 

-0-

 

“Why did you want me here?”

Rumple picked up his tea cup and cradled it between his hands. He was insisting on using the cup she’d chipped on her first day here. Belle kept wanting to tell him to be careful, but she’d seen him pull arrows out of his chest without spilling a drop of blood, she figured he could handle a little cut from some chipped crockery.

“The place was filthy.”

“And the great magic of the Dark One can’t deal with a little dust?”

He gave her one of his mischievous looks; “Do you know what the price is for using magic for dusting?”

She shook her head. Rumple leaned in closer as if what he was about to say was a great secret.

“Twice as much dust.”

Belle giggled. She wasn’t sure if he spoke the truth or not, but she had lived her in the castle long enough to know that magic could be contrary. It was believable that magic would happily make twice the work for being used for something so mundane. Thinking about dusting made her recall the room she had found as she had worked her way down the East corridor with the broom.

“You haven’t always been alone here have you. I, erm, I found a room, with a child’s clothing.”

Rumple’s shoulders tensed; “Hum. The owner of those clothes has never set foot in this castle. They belonged to my son.” He gave Belle a brief glance, “I may tell you about him, some day.”

She didn’t press the matter. She knew his moods well enough by now and to insist on the story now would only send him running to his tower for days on end. She sipped her tea and let her legs swing. Was it her imagination or was her left shoe getting looser? The rot had begun creeping down her leg, but this morning her foot had looked fine. Damn it, if her foot shrivelled she’d have to ask Rumple for new shoes, or maybe she could get away with doubling up on her stockings?

The silence between them was comfortable, but eventually Rumple broke it.

“Why did you agree to come here, with me?”

Belle hopped down from the table and felt her foot slip in her left shoe. The rot had spread, oh well she’d managed for now. Carefully she took Rumple’s cup from him and set about refilling them from the pot. Her reasons were linked to the mist of her lost memories, but these ones were clear, sharp and painful. She debated spouting something about seeing a chance to be a hero, but found that the truth was more appealing.

“Before I came here I made a mistake. A huge mistake.”

As she added the ridiculous amount of sugar Rumple favoured, she glanced at him. There was no judgement on his face, in fact if she had to put a name to the emotion written on his scaly features, she’d say it was understanding.

“I saw depth in a man that in truth is shallower than a puddle.”

Rumple took his cup from her hand; “Your intended, perchance?”

“Gaston, yes. He wanted to make his name, a life of great deeds that the bards would sing about for lifetimes to come.”

She raised her cup to her lips and hissed as the steam hit her face. As she was blowing to cool the brew Rumple took the opportunity to say; “I know a thing or two about how legends are made and marrying a fair princess will only get the bards singing for a week, two tops if there’s enough free ale at the wedding feast.”

Belle would have snorted but she was concentrating on not dribbling her tea. Half withered lips did nothing for one’s table manners.

“I was only part of his plan he wanted to make his name in an epic battle, but Avonlea was at peace.”

Understanding dawned on Rumple’s face; “Provoking the ogres. That is an old ploy. How exactly did he do it?”

Belle sighed and hopped back onto the table top; “He trapped an ogre child in a pit and beat it half to death.”

She heard Rumple’s knuckles crack as his grip closed on his tea cup. She eased it out of his hands before he shattered it. He flexed his fingers and inhaled deeply.

“I’m surprised your little kingdom lasted long enough for you to call me. But Gaston’s actions when his own, how is this your mistake?”

Belle took a shuddering breath. She could hardly think of this without crying. This was edging as close as she dared to the lost memories. If only she had listened to Mother, but what had she said? Belle didn’t want to sink into that state of depression again. Before she could speak her deepest shame there came a pounding knock at the front doors.

Rumple whined; “Who the bloody hell is that?”

He awkwardly patted Belle’s shrivelled hand and jumped from his perch on the table; “Let’s see what desperate fool dares to interrupt our teatime.”

In between one step and the next Rumple went from what Belle thought of as his home persona into the Dark One. She wiped her eyes and followed him out in to the entrance hall. Rumple opened the doors with a dramatic wave of his hand. Belle’s fond smile at his antics faded as the figure on the doorstep spoke.

“I am Sir Gaston, and, you beast, have taken… Belle?”

Belle refused to shy away. Gaston’s eyes roved over her and his face curled into a grimace of disgust. He shivered; “Keep her, beast, she’s not fit to be seen.”

“How rude.”

The ruddy smoke that was Rumple’s magical trademark wrapped around Gaston and cleared to reveal a single red rose. He stooped to retrieve it from the step and swivelled on the ball of his foot to offer it to Belle.

“If you’ll have it?”

Belle eyed it warily; “It’s not going to turn back, or start talking is it?”

“Dead men tell no tales, dearie.”

Her breath started coming faster, but before the panic could take hold Rumple stepped in closer to her.

“This one is on me, Belle. I find everything out eventually and I would have made him suffer for his actions. This was quick.”

He twirled the rose stem between his fingers and offered it to her again. She took it from him and returned the courtly bow he gave her with a curtsey.

“You gave him to much credit when you compared him to a puddle. Honestly, rejecting you just because of a practical dress, shallow fool.”

Belle found herself smiling as he strolled by her back to his wheel. He had to know that Gaston had been disgusted by her withered appearance, but his quip had made her feel better. Rumple could be quite sweet when he wanted to be.

She twirled the rose between her fingers as Rumple had done. She couldn’t find it in herself to mourn Gaston’s demise, not when she had spent considerable time plotting to slit his throat on their wedding night or praying for an arrow to find him on the battle field.

She winced as she took a step. Her shoe was very uncomfortable now. She could hear the spinning wheel creaking, so she took a moment to unbuckle her shoe and rub at her foot. One glance told her that her leg was now withered right down to her toes. A few wiggles confirmed that everything was in working order, but her shoe was at least a size to big. Belle knew she was clumsy enough without this added nuisance.

A tendril of magic twined around the shoe in her hand. Belle looked up to find Rumple smiling shily from the doorway.

“They’ll always be comfortable for you now.”

“And the price?”

“This is for self-preservation. I’m far too old to be catching you all the time.”

Belle giggled and was pleased to see Rumple join in with one of his ordinary sounding chuckles. He stopped abruptly and stared at the doors.

“Tea for two please Belle, and no apple tarts.”

She hurriedly slipped her shoe back on, it fitted perfectly. When she looked up Rumple had one of his spikiest dragonhide coats on. That made sense, he only ever banned apple from the table when Regina was about to visit.

 

-0-

 

Belle lingered at the door for a moment. She’d always been taught that eavesdropping was beneath a lady, but it was very useful for a maid who wanted to be sure there were no fireballs being hurled. Regina had been getting more and more short-tempered recently, and while it amused Rumple no end, she wasn’t keen on getting singed.

“…something to deal with a troublesome mermaid.”

“I wasn’t aware that your dear step-daughter had grown a tail and fins.”

Belle decided it was as safe as it was going to be to enter the room.

“Not all of my problems revolve around that ungrateful little brat. I do have other interests.”

Rumple’s fingers were tented under his chin and he was staring at the queen with polite disbelief. Belle had time to set the tray on the table and pour two cups of tea before Regina snapped; “Fine! If you must know the mermaid is helping Snow White and I want to make an example of the dangers of such an association.”

Belle’s right side had been facing the queen, who had been totally ignoring her. When Belle turned to hand her the tea cup Regina glanced at her and scowled.

“Honestly Rumple. How can you bear to have that serve your tea? Who knows what bits she’d dropped into it.”

Regina waved the offered tea away, her elegant face twisted in revulsion. Belle just shrugged and moved to give Rumple his cup.

“Unlike you Regina I can trust my servant, without taking extreme measures.”

Regina replied with a snort; “So, are you going to help me, or not?”

Rumple’s hands danced in the air; “That would be not, dearie,” – he pointed at the door, - “you know how to use the door.”

The queen huffed like a pouting brat and flounced to her feet. She spared Belle another sneer before she swept out of the room. Rumple smiled at Belle over the rim of his cup; “Quite the compliment that she thinks you’d try to poison me, that’s one of Regina’s favourite tricks.

“That would be a criminal thing to do to a good cup of tea, Rumple.”

Just beyond the door Regina’s eyebrows rose in surprise. There was something very strange going on between Rumple and his rotting skeleton of a maid. She swept silently out of the Dark Castle, meddling mermaids could wait, this was much more interesting.

-0-

 

The rot now encased most of Belle’s body. Only her right hand was as it had been. Rumple had still not made any comment, not a whisper, or vaguest hint that he had even noticed her change. If any of the visitors to the castle referred to her looks, Rumple would call them rude as he had from the start. She had caught a slight look of puzzlement on his face once or twice after the blunter comments, yet still he didn’t speak of it.

Belle wanted him to talk about it. She’d been content in the way they both ignored her condition until now, it had made the changes easier for her to accept. Now, she needed Rumple to notice, to see her as she was and say, say something, anything.

There was an irony in that; all her life people had only valued her for her looks, she’d grown weary of the flattering comments that thinly veiled the conviction she was worth nothing more than her beauty. ‘Don’t worry your pretty little head about it’, ‘Just smile and look radiant, I’ll do the rest’, ‘The perfect adornment for a hero’s arm’.

Rumple never spoke to her in that fashion, in fact he didn’t talk to her, he talked with her. He listened to her, considered her thoughts and feelings. Oh, he teased and bickered as well, but it was never cruel, dry and biting frequently, but never cruel. Rumple treated her in the way she had always dreamed a man would, and here she was wishing he would comment on her appearance.

With more force than was strictly needed Belle scrubbed Rumple’s shirt against the washboard. She was thinking like a proper princess again, being seen and not heard. If she wanted with Rumple about something there was nothing stopping her from raising the matter.

Once she had finished the laundry she would take him an early tea and ask him what he saw when he looked at her. She would do the brave thing, simple as that. Mother used to say that all the time, do the brave thing and bravery would follow. Belle shook the stray thought away and focused on getting, well whatever this stain was out of Rumple’s shirt.

 

-0-

 

Belle was just carrying her carefully prepared tea tray from the kitchen when Regina’s dulcet tones drifted down from the entrance hall. Belle muttered a very un-ladylike phrase under her breath. Never mind, she already had tea prepared and Rumple always got right of Regina quickly. As long as the queen didn’t sour his mood too much they would still be able to talk.

“…moaning. You’ll thank me for this.”

“Yes, because I always thank people for throwing fairy dust at me!”

Belle put all hopes of discussing her condition with Rumple to on side and stepped into the hall, with any luck she’d be able to deliver the tea tray and get out before those two started trading more than sharp words.

“Ah, here she is,” – Regina gave Belle a sickly-sweet smile, - “Now Rumple, do you see the truth of your precious little maid?”

Belle watched as Rumple blinked slowly and tilted his head to one side. The reason that he had never commented on her alteration hit her like a lightening bolt; he had never seen the changes, all this time he had seen her as she always had been, a beauty. She didn’t know what to say to him as she searched his face for the look of revulsion that she had become so used to on everyone she met.

Rumple blinked again and turned on the ball of his foot to glare at Regina.

“I see my maid,” – he jabbed a clawed finger at the queen, - “and I see a third-rate schemer who is wasting my time.”

Regina looked flabbergasted; “But that’s not possible she said that spell would lift the rose-tinted scales from your eyes.”

The Dark One advance rapidly on Regina and backed her against the wall; “Who said? Who have you been conspiring with, dearie?”

Regina batted Rumple’s finger out of her face and tried to side step him, but he moved with her to keep her pinned.

“I asked you a question, dearie, and I find my patience running thin.”

For all that Regina was affecting the appearance of boredom, Belle could see the tremble in her fingers. The queen was if not scared, then nervous, and with good reason Rumple was in full angry Dark One mode. When he was like this Belle was reluctant to approach him, she was certain he wouldn’t hurt her, but the slightest shadow of doubt was enough to make her edge back across the room towards his spinning wheel.

Regina finally rolled her eyes and huffed; “One of Blue’s disgruntled minions. She said that it sounded like your maid was under a curse, thought it must be powerful dark magic if it was fooling you,” – Regina’s posture shifted and her voice became a simper, - “I thought if you could see the despicable horror she really is then we could work together to examine the magic that made her that way.”

For a terrible second Belle thought Rumple might agree to the queen’s proposal. She didn’t dare contemplate what she’d be put through in the name of a magical examination.

Rumple stepped away from Regina with a snarl; “I’ve no interest in working with anyone who consorts with fairies. Get out.”

His amber eyes were locked on Belle pinning her in place as effectively as his body had trapped the queen. It surprised her that she wasn’t shaking, but this was Rumple, she was safe with him.

When Regina opened her mouth, Rumple tilted his head slightly without breaking eye contact with Belle and said; “Either leave on your own two high-heeled feet, or hop out as a toad, dearie.”

The rapid click of Regina’s heels echoed on the flagstones and were quickly followed by the slamming of the doors. Silence descended heavily upon the castle.

“Belle. Oh Belle.”

Rumple walked slowly towards with his hands outreached. There was nothing of the Dark One in his movements, this was all Rumple, the side of him only she got to see. She held out her right hand to him, painfully aware that he could now see the truth of her. Once he was close enough Rumple gently grasped her right fingers and reached across to ease her left from its grip on the spinning wheel.

He walked backwards leading her towards his chair at the head of the table. Each step his eyes mapped another part of her; her arms, her torso, her legs, she was dressed as modestly as ever but still she felt bare under his worried scrutiny.

“It doesn’t hurt, Rumple, there’s no pain.”

He didn’t raise his eyes to hers, but his thumbs rubbed tenderly against the back of her hands. Once she was seated he stepped back and dropped heavily on to the second chair that she only used for meals.

“How was I blind to this? Why did you never say anything sweetheart?”

Belle looked down at her hands fidgeting I her lap. This is what she had wanted, perhaps not the way she had envisioned, but none the less this was her chance to be honest.

“I’d decided to talk with you about all this,” – her hands gestured helplessly at her ravaged face, - “today in fact, but then Regina came and, well.

I’ve only ever been valued for my beauty. I was just as you saw me when you answered our call, pretty and raised to be the perfect princess. When I arrived here this started to happen, and you never noticed, which was wonderful, because I was free from all of those expectations. And then... and this… and it’s…”

Rumple had leaned forward and caught her hands in his again; “Shush, sweetheart, take a deep breath. That’s and another. Take your time.”

Belle took a few more deep breaths and tried to push her way through the misty block in her mind. Panic rose in her chest again and it dawned on her that this happened every time she tried to remember what she had forgotten. She stomped her feet in frustration and almost mashed Rumple’s toes under her heels. He didn’t appear to notice.

“There’s a hole in my memory, Rumple. Filled with all this fog that I can’t get through. When I try I panic and get scared that I’ll become ill like I did after Mother’s death.”

She wondered if Rumple realised her was rubbing his fingers across her skeletal hand in the same motion he used when spinning.

“This illness describe it. Please?”

Watching his fingers was soothing and without thinking she said; “The healers said it was a mourning malady. They could do nothing, so they called the Reul Ghorm,” Belle gasped and looked up at Rumple, “I didn’t remember that before.”

“That blue bitch,” Rumple gulped, “Sorry, sorry Belle. I’ve had encounters with that meddlesome gnat before. She’s more of a beast than I am.”

Belle considered all that she knew of the Blue Fairy. Her first instinct was to refute Rumple’s statement, but the voice stirring in the mist prompted her to think again. Blue had refused to help them against the ogres. Belle had read enough history to know that Blue was mixed up in many of the great tales of the realm, in much the same was that Rumple was, and in most of those stories calling on the Dark One had been the last resort after Blue had refused her assistance. She’d never questioned that before. The histories always gave noble and heroic reason for Blue’s refusals, but now they sounded false, self-serving and cruel.

Belle knew she was going to have to research the history of Reul Ghorm more deeply with this fresh perspective, but right now she had a more personal interaction with the fairy to unravel.

“What has she done to me, Rumple?”

A small smile curved his lips; “You’ve always wanted to see the tower, haven’t you?”

-0-

At the door to his tower workroom Rumple bid Belle to pause. He hurried inside, and she could hear muffle bumps and scrapes and him muttering to himself. A rapid tidy up was in progress. She hummed to herself and rocked on her heels while she waited.

When Rumple opened the door, he looked flustered.

“Sorry about that. Place was a bit of a mess.”

“You should get a maid.”

Rumple tutted at her, but there was a smile on his face as he led her inside. Curiosity got the better of her and Belle tried to look everywhere at once. The room was cluttered, as any space around Rumple tended to be without her tidying. Bunches of herbs hung from the rafters and one whole wall covered in sturdy shelving holding a dazzling array of jars and bottles. A spinning wheel, smaller that the one in the great hall stood in one corner on a patch of floor strewn with wisps of straw and gold thread. When Belle spotted the books, she tripped over her own feet and would have crashed into the long work table if Rumple hadn’t caught her around the waist and held her steady.

He was pressed against her side, his arm around her waist, those restless fingers of his twitching at her side. It was the closest she had been to him since she had hugged him in the forest, and the fact that he wasn’t moving away delighted her.

“I was wondering when you would notice those. I’m no fool enough to forbid you any book Belle, but those are not for casual reading, please do not touch them unless I am with you.”

She eyed the heavily bound leather tomes carefully; “Are they that dangerous?”

“Oh yes, but mostly they are just tetchy. They prefer to be handled by their owner.”

“You realise that once we have broken my memory block I’ll be having you turn the pages for me.”

Rumple chuckled; “I would expect nothing less, mi’lady.”

Belle hand reached up to pat his cheek. She’d never done anything like this before with anyone, but when Rumple leaned into her touch it felt like the most natural gesture in the world.

After a moment Rumple shook his head slightly and made sure she was steady on her feet before her stepped back.

“Right, I erm, you need a seat,” with a twitch of his fingers a comfortable couch appeared in the centre of the room, “there you are.”

While Belle settled herself and arranged her skirts Rumple swivelled on the spot muttering to himself; “Now, where did I put that? Saw it only the other day. Where has it got to?”

With a burst of impish speed Rumple jumped up onto the empty seat of the couch and leapt towards one of the high shelves. Belle twisted in her seat as he landed lightly behind the couch holding an object she had no name for.

“What is that?”

Rumple let the cobweb of bright yellow thread and feathers twist in the air; “This is a dreamcatcher. Magic from a distant realm, and very effective at unlocking blocked memories.”

The breath hitch in Belle’s chest. Panic was rising up from her stomach in a wave of bile. Rumple vaulted over the back of the couch and took her withered hand; “Belle? Just breath, that’s it. The spell is trying to protect itself, but I know you are stronger than it. You can do this, you’re brave.”

A calm crept over her and she nodded; “Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.”

Rumple was nodded, but she could see he didn’t quite understand the importance of those words.

“Okay, I’m ready. What do we have to do?”

He held up the dreamcatcher; “Look at the web and focus on the mist in your mind. I’m right here with you and I will not let anything harm you. Focus on what is beyond the mist…”

The fear and panic tried to rise again, but with Rumple’s reassuring hold on her hand Belle ignored it. Her hand tightened around his when the threads of the web began to glow.

“That’s it, Belle. It’s working. You’re doing it sweetheart.”

The glow spread and swirled across the web, filling the circle and then with a burst of shimmering light Belle found herself looking at much loved face.

“Mother.”

Rumple leaned into her side; “You did it, Belle, now we can watch what you had been forced to forget. Would you like to be alone for this?”

She shook her head and pressed in closer to his warmth. She wanted to say that having him by her side made her feel brave, but her throat was thick with unshed tears and she could not force her voice through them. He understood what she needed of him. At a gesture from him the dreamcatcher floated in the air before them, leaving Rumple able to wrap an arm around Belle’s shoulders and still hold her hand.

Within the circle of the dreamcatcher the image of Mother began to move.

 

“Hurry Belle, this is the only place we can speak in safety.”

Colette pulled Belle deeper into the library. Father rarely entered here. The collection of scrolls and tomes was his indulgence to his bookish wife, but the stories held in ink and paper were of little interest to him. Belle had learned to walk in this room, toddling around after Mother and sharing in her passion for the written word before she could talk.

From a hidden compartment concealed in one of the remotest shelves Colette took a slim volume and pressed it into Belle’s hands.

“My journal, I wrote an entry every day from the day I found out I was pregnant until your naming day.”

“Why did you stop then Mother? Why hide this away so well?”

Colette smiled at the inquisitive nature of her darling daughter. She opened the journal to the last few pages.

“Read. Quickly, we’re running out of time.”

Belle turned her eyes toward Mother’s neat script.

 

In the tower Rumple and Belle gasped as the words on the page shifted in the same way that Belle’s memories had within the dreamcatcher. Rumple whistled under his breath.

“Your Mother’s memories, we’re seeing her memories within yours. Oh, your Mother was a very clever woman.”

Rumple was clearly impressed, and while Belle was proud of his praise for Mother she shushed him, not wanting to miss anything within the dreamcatcher.

In Avonlea the naming of a royal child was a private ritual attended only by the parents and the patron fairy, Umber.

The wee babe was laid upon an alter draped in purple cloth. Umber stood on one side ready to name and bless the babe. Colette squeezed Maurice’s hand and smiled. This was a happy day. Once their child had her name they would carry her into the great hall and introduce her to the court then the celebration for the heir of Avonlea would begin.

Umber raised her wand and placed her other hand on the child’s head. The babe blinked at her with curious blue eyes.

“I, Umber, patron of the royal house of Avonlea grant this child my blessings three. I bless her with health, wisdom, and beauty. These gifts are given to Princess…”

The door of the chapel blew opened with a crash. Fairy and parents turned to look at the intruder. Framed by the heavily carved oak doorway stood Reul Ghorm.

Maurice instantly bowed and tugged on Colette’s hand to remind her of her manners. Colette dropped into a curtsey but kept her eyes firmly on Reul Ghorm.

The Blue Fairy fluttered forward as Maurice straightened up and said; “You honour us, Reul Ghorm, by attending our daughter’s naming…”

Blue raised a hand and Maurice fell silent.

“There will be no naming today. I bring dire warning about this child. Within her heart there is a darkness. If left unchecked there will come a day when she will join with the greatest evil in this, or any other realm. Together they will bring about the destruction of our very way of life.”

Colette looked to her husband with horror. Her distress was increased by the look of stoic acceptance on his features.

“What must be done?”

Blue fluttered closer a calm smile on her lips; “Give the child to me. I will ensure that she is raised in a place where her darkness can do no harm.”

Maurice heaved a weary sigh, but before he could grant his consent Colette wrenched her hand from his and stepped forward.

“No! I refuse to be separated from the child of my body and blood in this fashion. I rejected your offer Reul Ghorm.”

Blue frowned at Colette, who stood her ground every inch the mother confident that the queen of the fairies could not take her child from her with out consent. Blue looked to Maurice, who dropped his eyes and took his wife’s hand once more.

“You cannot take our child.”

A fearsome snarl marred Blue’s features for an instant before she regained control of herself and resumed a calm but stern appearance.

“As you so wish, but I will not permit this child to grow and offer no warning to the world as to the evil within.”

Blue raised her wand and pointed it directly at the babe, who had watched all of the drama without making a sound.

“From this day forth your visage shall reflect the darkness in your heart. By this deformity of body all whom look upon you will see the blackness of your soul.”

A glittering rain of magic burst forth from Blue’s wand and showered down upon the babe, who squirmed and whined as the curse settled over her. Blue whirled around and left, uncaring of the cries of anguish from Colette and Maurice.

“Umber, please udo this.”

Colette was ready to drop to her knees and beg, but Maurice beat her to it. He prostrated himself before the alter that held his child.

“Please. What will it take to undo this?”

Umber’s wings fluttered anxiously. She tilted her head, but it was not the painted ceiling that her eyes focused on. The power of Sight let he look beyond into the babe’s future.

“I cannot undo what had been done, but I can soften the blow.”

Maurice scrambled to his knees already beginning to smile with relief. Colette stood firm and asked; “At what price?”

A tear trickled from the corner of Umber’s eye; “If this is done you will not live to see you daughter find her place in the world.”

“I accept the price willingly.”

Umber once again raised her wand and placed her hand on the babe’s head.

“By my blessing the world will see your beauty until your nineteenth year. For then I foresee that a soul will be invited into your life, one who will not see you as others do. A day will come when the scales are removed from his eyes. True Love will break your curse and will bring light into his life and the world. These gifts I grant you, child who I name Belle of Avonlea.”

 

Within the dreamcatcher young Belle closed the journal and raised worried eyes to Mother.

“So, I’m evil?”

Colette hugged her fearful daughter and stroked her hair; “No. I do not believe that, and I never have.”

Colette took Belle by the shoulders and pushed her just far enough away, so she could look her in the eye.

“Everyone has the capacity for good, evil and everything in between within them. I have spent years researching the prophecies of the Blue Fairy, and I’ve found that they are not always what she would lead us to believe.”

Belle bit her lip; “So, I’m not evil?”

“That is up to you my daughter, but I have raised you to be kind and wise. You always have a choice. There may not be an easy, or a good option, but there is always a choice. Be brave my darling Belle and bravery will follow.”

Mother and daughter jumped as the sounds of screams and shouts rang from the castle. The whole library shook, and Belle clutched Mother’s arm.

“The Ogres!”

Colette hurried Belle through the maze of shelves. A horrid splintering sound rent the air and made them stumble. The growl of an ogre deafened them.

“Belle! Run for the other door. Now!”

Belle turned and ran towards the little used rear door. She had almost reached it when she heard Mother yell.

“Here I am you bastard!”

Belle slid to a stop, she had never heard Mother swear before. As she turned the shelves were shattered by the wild swing of a club the size of a grown tree. Wood, paper and leather erupted into the air. Through the flying debris Belle saw a huge ogre bearing down on Mother.

Her scream was lost in the clamour of falling wood and books. A strong arm wrapped her waist and dragged her backwards. She kicked and struggled, but she was pulled away from Mother. The last sight of Mother Belle had was of her smiling as the ogre raised his club.

 

The memories in the dreamcatcher went black. Belle jumped; “Where did they go? What happened?”

Rumple eased her back into his side; “It’s alright. You must have passed out. Oddly enough this spell doesn’t reveal your dreams.”

Belle didn’t relax until the images appeared once more.

 

Blue was fluttering angrily as she snapped; “I warned you of the evil with in her. She has caused the queen’s death.”

The confirmation of Mother’s death shook Belle to her core and unleashed her anger.

“If anyone is to blame it is Gaston. He brought this war upon us.”

In a superior and cold tone Blue said; “This is the evil revealing itself. What good and true princess would slander her betrothed so?”

Maurice rang his hat between his hands; “She has been reluctant toto celebrate her engagement.”

Belle glared at her father, but her annoyance at his words was nothing compared to her indignation at the glittering fairy.

“Gaston started this war by beating the ogre child. If your magic was as all-seeing as you claim it to be, Reul Ghorm, you would know that!”

Belle pushed herself into a sitting position before Blue had the chance to speak, she continued; “What is this evil you see in me? Because if all it is that I make my own decisions then I will tell you that there is no evil in that!”

Blue moved closer and hissed; “I don’t know what nonsense your mother tried to fill your head with girl, but it isn’t going to matter because once I’m done with you, you aren’t going to remember any of it.”

 

The images in the dreamcatcher faded out. Belle and Rumple sat in silence for a long moment. Finally Rumple said; “How old were you when we made our deal Belle?”

“I’d just turned nineteen.”

“Ah.”

Rumple gave her a gentle squeeze before he released her and rose to his feet. Without thinking Belle tucked her own feet up underneath her. Rumple clearly needed to pace and there wasn’t much space for him to do so. As he moved back and forth she wriggled to get comfortable. Of all the huge secrets her blocked contain within her blocked memories the only one she could focus on was how different she had looked back then. She’d all but forgotten that she’d not always been a walking skeleton, bald and bony with only a thin covering of corpse white skin. It was strange how quickly this appearance had become her normality.

Rumple was muttering to himself she caught some of his words, but not enough to make sense of what he was saying. He suddenly stopped and shily smiled at her.

“It was when you broke my cup. In hindsight that’s when I started to, erm, to love you.”

Belle blinked at him. Rumple loved her? A warmth began to spread in her chest. She’d not been looking for love, had never considered it for herself. Now that she examined her emotions, she saw that she had begun to care for he when she had broken his cup. She’d begun to change at that point as well. Belle bit her lip as doubt crept in, chilling the warmth she had felt.

“You can’t still love me, not when I look like this.”

Rumple dropped to his knees in front of her and took her ravaged hands in his.

“Sweetheart, until Regina’s visit today, I had no idea that you looked like this. To me you have always been the intelligent and brave woman who agreed to a deal with the beast to save her people. I look at you now and you are still that amazing woman, although I confess I do miss your hair.”

She chuckled at him. There was no denying the depth of emotion in his eyes. He loved her. Belle gasped as the implications hit her.

“I can have my hair back. If we a re True Love, a kiss will break my curse.”

Rumple sighed and moved to sit beside her on the couch; “You’re not the only one who is cursed Belle. And I can’t let mine be broken just yet. I promised you a story about my son, didn’t I?”

 

Epilogue.

Each great library in the realm had it’s own tale to tell of the visit made by the Corpse Scholar. She would arrive with the first cock crow of morning, always bearing a gift. Sometimes it was a tome thought long lost, others a perfect copy of a scroll the collection that was deemed too delicate with age to handle.

No matter where in the realm the library was located the Corpse Scholar would always request access to the same things; histories involving fairies. She would spend hours or days pouring over the tomes, never appearing to rest. After questioning the scholars, she would enter the town and ask the locals about the legends and stories they had been told as children. Her skeletal appearance caused some to shy away in fear, but her generous and kind nature reassured most. No peasant would refuse a lady who offered gold with open hand and would trade vital cures for the answers she sought.

It was said by many that she was accompanied by a hooded figure. Not all saw him, and those who did declared them the fortunate ones.

A visit from the Corpse Scholar quickly gain the reputation of being a blessing. Any library she graced with her presence was from that moment forward protected from theft and fire. Inks no longer faded, and paper did not crumble.

Around the time that Neverland was broken and the Reul Ghorm fell the Corpse Scholar disappeared. Many scholars tried to understand what she had been researching, but none could find a pattern in the works she read. The great and good among the learned remembered her quick mind, but for the people at large she was best remembered by the songs the bards had penned to her wisdom and kindness.


End file.
